


Ray Of Shine

by Aglio_Saggezza



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aomine and Akashi are morons and Kuroko sets them straight, Best Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Minor Violence, but he loves them really, that's the gist of it, tiny hints of AoKuro pre-slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:53:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aglio_Saggezza/pseuds/Aglio_Saggezza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you thought they were wrong, you should've just punched them or something." </p>
<p>Not exactly anyone's definition of sound advice, but, well – what if Kuroko had?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ray Of Shine

**Author's Note:**

> During Kagami's rant after Kuroko finally told Seirin, almost a year after he'd become their phantom instead of Teiko's, the full and complete truth of his reasons for leaving the GoM, our dear tiger told him that, instead of feeling guilty and heartbroken and slinking off with his tail between his legs until he joined Seirin and regained the will to fight, Kuroko should've gotten mad at his teammates and hit them a few times – see if that didn't knock their heads back into place, and deflate said heads a bit.  
> This is my take on what would've happened, if Kuroko had.
> 
> Word count: 3567
> 
> Disclaimer: I disclaim.

« _I…don't even remember how to receive your passes anymore_. »

Tetsuya felt those words like a physical blow, shaking his world down to its foundations and leaving him floundering in the aftermath. It would've hurt less, he thought dimly, if Aomine had just gone ahead and punched him in the face: at least the bruise would've healed relatively quickly. Tetsuya was certain that he was going to hear _this_ particular conversation replayed in his nightmares for a good long while. 

His best friend, his teammate, his partner, his _Light_ — declaring him worthless, insulting him while aiming straight for the weak spots Tetsuya had shown him in complete trust that they would never be attacked, making light of Tetsuya's hard work in a way that Aomine had promised, with a thousand shared bumps of their fists, never to do…Tetsuya found himself effectively rendered speechless, floundering and gasping like a landed fish as he struggled to recall what _breathing_ felt like.

This admittedly extreme reaction wasn't borne from discouragement, though, or resentment, or heartbreak. Rather, the feeling that was pumping adrenaline through his veins double-time, burning like hot coals in his belly, filling his vision with a haze of bloody, crimson red…it was pure, unadulterated, blind **fury**. 

Bit by bit, he pushed back the onslaught of emotion and came back to his senses, becoming aware of the fact that Aomine was still standing before him, calling out to him with worry visible on his pained features. "Tetsu?" the tanned ace was saying, " _Tetsu_? Oi, you alright? _Say_ something already!"

Aomine sounded panicked, because of course Aomine was a big softie at heart, and he hadn't spoken those words to hurt Tetsuya: rather, they had no doubt been an attempt at punishing himself for being a "monster" that crushed so many other teams' spirits without even meaning to, by driving away his best friend. Tetsuya _knew_ Aomine-kun, knew how kind and sensitive he was despite his gruff, uncaring exterior, and knew of his tendency to self-flagellate in the most roundabout ways instead of simply apologizing whenever he felt like he had done something wrong. Seeing Tetsuya now, with his head bowed and shoulders hunched and shaking, Aomine probably thought that he'd succeeded in making Tetsuya cry — and was now going to flounder to cheer him up, as awkwardly adorable as ever…

It was just too bad for Aomine that Tetsuya wasn't in the mood to indulge him today.

" ** _Aomine-kun…_** "

Aomine stiffened instinctively, his spine going ramrod-straight as he recognized the tone Tetsuya often used right before he delivered the most painful of his reprimanding rib-jabs. However, as foolishly brave as ever, Aomine didn't back away slowly as any wise person would have, and instead balled his fists as he jeered, "What, so you weren't crying like a little _girl_ after all?!"

Oh, that was _it_. Insults to Tetsuya, to his basketball style and to his general way of life, Tetsuya could take: with Midorima and Murasakibara on his team, he'd had more than enough practice at simply staring at them impassively until they got bored and left him alone, and getting back at them later when they would least expect it. But if there was one thing that had always offended Tetsuya's sensibilities and sparked his temper faster than one could say "ignite pass", it was slurs of a sexist nature.

A punch was thrown, just as Tetsuya had half-wished one would be not a minute previously. It was a beautiful punch, too, thumb properly tucked above the rest of the curled fingers, hitting with the heel of the palm to ensure maximum damage*; a lean arm sailed gracefully through the damp, rainy air, performing a wide arc before the fist it tapered off into made contact with a cheekbone with a satisfying _crack_.

Only, this punch…Aomine hadn't been the one to throw it.

For several long moments, Tetsuya stood above his downed best friend in all his drowned-kitten, 168-centimeter-tall, barely-57-kilograms-when-wet glory, and said nothing. Then he took a deep breath and, looking straight into the wide, dark blue eyes that were gazing back into his with as much mute despair as one might find in those of a lost child, he opened his mouth and let Aomine-kun have it.

* * *

 

To be honest, the whole day had been a bit of a blur to Daiki.

That pretty much summed up the way he'd been living for the past few months, actually. Food, classes he either skipped or napped through, demolishing his opponents at basketball practice, more sleep…all of it went by with painful slowness, sluggishly rolling by like the faded, dull film reel of an old movie he wasn't so much and actor of- as a spectator to; and yet leaving him wondering where all that time had gone on the rare occasions when he managed to resurface and become fully conscious of himself and the world around him once more. Tetsu and Satsuki were the only remaining bright spots in his days — but time with them had become scarcer and scarcer when his bitterness, cynicism and just plain unpleasantness had finally started to push even them, his truest and most devoted friends, away.

The conversation, if one could call it that, which he'd just shared with Coach Sanada, had just succeeded in making Daiki's whole world ( _fun, friendship, basketball_ ) feel even more childish and pointless — and then Tetsu had come along, Tetsu who seemed, for all his forced airs of normalcy, like he was growing sadder and smaller and weaker with every passing day, like a wilting flower — and all the darkness bubbling up in Daiki's heart had just come _pouring_ out through his stupid, _stupid_ mouth, probably damaging his bond with Tetsu beyond repair.

The only thing that snapped Daiki at least partly out of his daze of apathy had been the thought that he'd made Tetsu cry. Tetsu was the one person in his life whom he was most afraid of losing, mostly because he knew that his and Satsuki's sibling-like relationship wasn't something either of them could ever fully disentangle themselves from; Tetsu, though, Tetsu was _free_. He was the best, the kindest, the bravest and just the most amazing person Daiki knew; and, frankly, the power forward often wondered why his Shadow still bothered to hang around him these days, because if even _Daiki_ couldn't think of a reason why Tetsu would be willing to put up with Daiki's constantly sour, depressed mood and stay by his side, then what was _really_ tying Tetsu there?

But then it turned out that Tetsu wasn't hurt by Daiki's ( _so fucking_ stupid _, goddammit, I didn't_ mean _any of it_ ) words: he was **pissed** , but still Daiki soon found himself ignoring his every self-preservation instinct and poking the hornet's nest instead of running away as fast as his legs could carry him, and so he braced himself for a truly spectacular jab to his side—

—only to receive a punch in the face instead.

( _Daiki had wondered, once or twice, what kind of damage Tetsu would be capable of, if he ever decided to try out his Ignite Pass on a human being. Now he knew_.)

It was easy to forget, when one hung around people like Murasakibara on a regular basis, but if one looked at Tetsu without basketball-goggles, the passing specialist wasn't actually all that tiny. A meter sixty-eight was a perfectly respectable height for a fifteen-year-old Japanese male; moreover, no-one could train as arduously as Tetsu did every day and _not_ gain enough strength to pack a mean punch. And so it was that Daiki found himself on his ass on the muddy ground, staring up at Tetsu who was poised above him like a snake an inch away from striking, his right fist still raised and the other one clenched at his side, and god help Daiki but his small, skinny Shadow was the very picture of an avenging angel right now.

Tetsu's round blue eyes were boring into Daiki's own, so incandescent with rage that they almost seemed to be gleaming silver. His cheeks were flushed, his shoulders squared and the corded muscle in his neck straining visibly as he gritted his teeth with barely suppressed violence. His hair, despite the droplets of rain that clung to it, was standing on end like the fluffed-up fur of an angry cat, and his entire upper body was heaving to the rhythm of the long, deep breaths he was taking in an obviously vain effort to calm himself down.

The very, very small part of Daiki's brain that _wasn't_ busy screaming _ohfuckohfuckohfuck_ in every language whose profanities Daiki was fluent in, mused distantly that he'd never, in his entire life, seen anything more **terrifying** than the glare Tetsu was currently trying to incinerate him with.

And then Tetsu's lips parted, his features darkening in a way that was somehow even more forbidding than before — and Daiki realized that, throbbing pain in his cheek or not, he would've had to be very naive to believe that the worst _wasn't_ yet to come.

* * *

 

"You know what, Aomine-kun? _Screw you_."

The tanned ace's jaw dropped reflexively when he heard his ever-formal, unwaveringly polite Shadow speak such an imprecation aloud ( _if pressed, he would admit that he might've been feeling a little turned on as well_ ), but his undignified reaction was summarily ignored as Kuroko began his rant in earnest.

"Aomine-kun is an idiot. Well, I've always known that, but now I can see that you're an even bigger idiot than I thought. And I'm going to tell you **why**.

"I'll start by reminding Aomine-kun that he is _fifteen years old_ – not even a quarter-way through with his life unless he were to die early which, at the moment, I might just be inclined to help him with. So what if you're stronger than any of the athletes who currently play basketball at middle school level? What about high school level, university level, professional level? You think you're good enough to beat a seasoned pro in the prime of his life? Not to mention, this is Japan – not exactly a country whose citizens are known for their towering heights, or for their prowess in basketball, for that matter. Have you ever gone up against an NBA athlete, Aomine-kun? Do you really believe that you would win?

"'The only one who can beat me is me'. Are you a moron? First of all, that doesn't even make sense – unlike chess or _shogi_ , basketball isn't a game that one can play against oneself, you brainless _ganguro_. And second of all, does Aomine-kun, fifteen-year-old Japanese middle-schooler, really think that he's the strongest basketball player in the _world_? Hmm? Is that what you believe? Has your head really grown _that_ big?"

Aomine was deeply thankful for both his naturally dark complexion, and the icy sheets of rain that were still pouring from the dramatically cloudy skies, because otherwise he was sure he would've been blushing up to his ears. As it was, he was already hard-pressed not to start toeing at the ground like a scolded kindergartener, and Tetsu was still far from done.

"Aomine-kun was the one who told me that there was no such thing as a useless player on a basketball team, that I shouldn't give up on my dreams just because I wasn't a conventionally talented player. You said this less than a year and a half ago, if I recall. Has your brain rotted so much from the filthy magazines you insist on poring over, that you've already forgotten, or are you just a **lying** "—an imaginary arrow speared through Aomine's back—" **idiotic** "—and then into his gut—" **coward** "—and, finally, into his thick skull—"who couldn't stick to his words to save his life? Is that the sort of person you are, Aomine-kun?

"And don't even get me started on the way you've been playing lately. Just because our opponents aren't up to the great _Aomine-sama_ 's exacting standards, you think you've got the right to spit in their faces and ruin their love for basketball, is that it? **The world does not revolve around you**. So you're bored right now – suck it up, wait a few years until you're scouted by a pro team, and you'll get to play against all sorts of strong opponents then. When I told you that a worthy rival for you would appear soon, I didn't mean _this week_ , or _before the end of the year_ , but I didn't mean _never_ , either. And even _should_ you become the very strongest basketball player on the whole planet one day, that _still_ wouldn't give you the right to ruin every other player's enjoyment of it. Do you understand me, Aomine-kun? If you can't find a worthy opponent right now, don't just sit on your useless backside and whine about it – go find someone with the potential to surpass you, and train them up until they do. People who complain about things they could _do something about_ are the type I hate the most.

"Even Midorima-kun has a better attitude than you do these days, regarding both basketball and everyday life. Midorima-kun may be a _megane_ -weirdo and a _tsundere_ with so many quirks that he'll probably never get a girlfriend, but right now he's being a better, kinder man than you. Do you really want to be worse than _Midorima-kun_ , both as a person and as a basketball player, Aomine-kun? Because right now, for one, Midorima-kun is certainly _beating_ you when it comes to being a decent human being with _morals_ and a _heart_."

Aomine had been feeling rather oversized since his latest growth spurt, what with the way he now towered effortlessly over both Tetsu and Satsuki (though he was nothing compared to Murasakibara, who had actually broken the two-meter barrier a while back and was still climbing). Right now, though, Aomine felt about two inches tall, and was ready to beg for mercy just in hopes that Tetsu would stop ruining his angst with all that inexorable common sense. He'd never felt stupider, and given that both his best friends were some of the cleverest, sharpest people he knew, that was _saying_ something.

Kuroko still wasn't quite done, really, but he'd managed to drain enough of the venom from his emotional wounds that he could speak mostly calmly now. In a curiously fitting turn of events, the rain had just begun to lighten, the heavy gray clouds dispersing somewhat and letting a few rays of afternoon sunlight peek through – a single one of them falling directly onto the wet, bedraggled form of the phantom player and making him nearly shine, to his partner's eyes, with some kind of holy glow.

"Practice is important, Aomine-kun. It may be boring for you right now, and maybe it'll stay that way for several years more. But when scouts come knocking on your door after high school, do you really want to have to turn them down because lack of training will have deteriorated your body's condition to such a degree that performing a simple fadeaway could result in serious injury? I've noticed that you don't seem to like our new coach nearly as much as Shirogane- _kantoku_ , but if you'd rather not follow Sanada- _kantoku_ 's training regimen, you can simply ask Akashi-kun to write you up a different one, alright? But if you keep skipping practice and end up breaking your leg during a match one of these days, I won't come visit you in hospital."

Kuroko heaved a long, deep sigh, the tension in his shoulders finally disappearing like air slipping out of a deflating balloon, and suddenly the aura of frightening rage he had been exuding since he'd begun his scolding dissipated, leaving him looking his usual deceptively ordinary, mild-mannered self.

"For almost a year now, the _Kiseki no Sedai_ has been regarded as a group of monsters rather than geniuses, and yes, that's partly our fault; but it's also our opponents'. By deciding one-sidedly that there's no way they could beat us anyway, and giving up on winning matches against us without even trying, they're scorning us more than honoring us, in a way. And then we see other teams still happily playing against each other, having fun and enjoying the challenge — and yet they always look like they're headed to the gallows when they step onto the court with us. It's painful, isn't it? Who could possibly feel fired up and ready to play under these conditions? Our opponents all think we're looking down on them, and most of us are, but really – aren't they excluding us just as much?

"Aomine-kun, you're at least smart enough to understand that annihilating all our opponents without mercy, becoming more and more ruthless with each new match, isn't going to be at all helpful in changing public opinion of us. We shouldn't tone down our skills in matches just for the sake of easing our opponents' fears and egos, that wouldn't be fun either, but purposefully spreading your disappointment with middle school-level Japanese basketball to _everyone you play against,_ like a nasty cold, is just petty, Aomine-kun.

"Now, you are going to get up, go back to practice, and play one-on-one against Kise-kun until he's up to your standards – _without_ overworking him or making him feel bad about himself in any way. You are going to remain, if not friendly, then at least _respectful_ to any team we happen to play against. In a few years, you'll go pro (and yes, Aomine-kun, if you love basketball as much as you profess to, you'll wait that long) and find worthy rivals to go against.

"And if, one day, you truly find that you've become the very best basketball in the entire world, absolutely invincible, _then_ you can come to me and punch me in the face in turn. But if you try that woe-is-me, I'm-sad-so-I'm-taking-everyone-down-with-me pouty toddler routine again, the next Ignite Punch I throw will be aimed at a distinctly more sensitive area of your body. Understood?"

Aomine didn't reply, staring mutely up at Kuroko, wide-eyed and frozen still if not for his dangerously wobbling chin and the tears he had to keep blinking back. The self-proclaimed Shadow didn't let it faze him, and instead extended a hand to help his Light off the ground, gazing patiently down at him.

"Let's go back to practice, Aomine-kun."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Aomine reached out and grasped onto that warm, pale hand.

* * *

 

"You're late."

Tetsuya nodded at his captain placidly, not at all surprised that Akashi had been able to spot him by the gym's doors despite his lack of presence. The soles of his sneakers, still drenched from the rain, squeaked loudly against the finely waxed floors as he neared the red-haired boy, accepting the proffered towel and murmuring a quiet thanks.

"It seems you were unsuccessful," Akashi said dismissively, sounding so completely unconcerned about a matter he'd been worried about not an _hour_ earlier that, for a scant few seconds, Tetsuya barely even registered the fact that _Akashi Seijuurou_ had just made a _wrong assumption_. "It can't be helped, then. Give up on Aomine."

Tetsuya froze in place, feeling his temper spike dangerously for the second time that day, but forced himself to remain calm as he replied with a quiet, "Eh?"

"A plate can never be restored once it has a crack," Akashi went on, dramatically and still _dead wrong_ , Tetsuya would never let him live it down. "But as long as it can still be used, one can make do with what one has."

Tetsuya slowly looked up at his captain, and found Akashi staring back at him with wide open, unblinking, crazed-looking eyes – the left one of which had mysteriously turned yellow during the time Tetsuya had been away. There was a slightly demented smile playing on Akashi's lips, and he appeared to be waiting for Tetsuya to say something despairing (and just as dramatic) in return, just so he could make one final (dramatic) declaration and conclude their discussion. Tetsuya, for a split second, considered playing along…

…And then decided that he'd had quite enough of this sort of nonsense, thank you very much, and did the first thing that came to mind.

A second punch was thrown that day, just as magnificent and unexpected as the first. And, as Tetsuya glared down at another ridiculously big-headed moron whom he had greatly enjoyed knocking down onto his haughty posterior, he mentally patted himself on the back for having thought to gulp down a throat lozenge after he had dropped off Aomine with an ecstatic Kise — because scolding people's ears off could be surprisingly taxing on one's voice when one was usually a man of few words.

"Akashi-kun is an idiot. I always considered you to be one of the smartest people I knew, but clearly I was mistaken. And I'm going to tell you **why**..."

**Author's Note:**

> (And so Bokushi developed a raging crush on Kuroko while Oreshi regained control of their body and was simultaneously terrified of- and horrifically infatuated with the phantom sixth man whose spine he helped hammer iron into.  
> Another Kuroko-style dressing-down was delivered to Murasakibara who quickly fell in line as well, and the Generation of Miracles stayed together on the same team all throughout high school, helping Rakuzan preserve its title as national champion for two years straight — until Kagami and Seirin kicked their collective asses and took names in their final year.  
> Kuroko and Kagami became the ultimate bros, much to the ire of Akashi and Aomine — who managed to snag the title of Kuroko's boyfriends years ago and, though they violently hate each other's guts, regularly agree to perform sordid acts on each other for Kuroko's viewing pleasure.  
> Kuroko went on to become a kindergarten teacher and Aomine a cop, but they both mostly lived off the Akashi family's riches until the end of their days. As for the Generation of Miracles in its entirety, all of its members plus Kagami meet up at least once a month to play streetball and pig out on Murasakibara's five-star quality confectionaries.  
> And all was well.)
> 
> * A reference to that one HaiKuro drabble of triste's…wherein Kuroko wears stilettos, if I remember right?


End file.
